


It’s Delicious And Nutritious!

by CinnabarMint



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crack, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Funny, M/M, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnabarMint/pseuds/CinnabarMint
Summary: Aziraphale nibbles when he’s anxious or sad. Crowley’s been trying to discover what is the snack Aziraphale munches on for more than 50 years.One day he finds out.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 85





	It’s Delicious And Nutritious!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Work by Broken Death Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/715969) by BrokenDeathAngel. 



> Hello!
> 
> This work has been inspired by some of BrokenDeathAngel’s comics on instagram (she’s also on tumblr). I’ll leave the links here, though I advise you not to go see them before you’ve read this if you don’t want the spoilers.
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CFXZ8lLF09B/?igshid=16o64dod5gz3u
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CFbqXC0lIX1/?igshid=81r8cjxe70wn
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CHQXxvWFW_l/?igshid=1ugqmh2eh4ht9
> 
> Title comes from a comment on one of those illustrations.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely beta CandyQueenAO3
> 
> Enjoy! :D

After a bit more than six thousand years on earth Crowley has learned that one of the greatest joys in life, for Aziraphale, is food. Ever since those oysters in Rome, Crowley has watched almost everything and anything cross Aziraphale’s lips, with varying degrees of success.

He’s also learned that Aziraphale tends to snack, when anxious or sad. 

Now, Crowley has made it his life mission to bring as much comfort to Aziraphale as he possibly can, which is why it frustrates him to no end that he can never quite find the particular pastry Aziraphale prefers to nibble on during his moments of stress. He hasn’t really ever been able to get a good look at whatever it is. He’s only ever caught some vanilla scented golden pastry dust on top of Aziraphale’s desk, and on the corner of that soft looking mouth. And Crowley’s been looking, Aziraphale has been eating this particular treat for at least 50 years.

At first, Crowley thought it might come from one of the various family patisseries that one can find in London. But he’s gone into every single one of them, and not found anything that smells quite like the golden dust his angel’s relaxing snack leaves behind. Then he started thinking that that might be the result of Aziraphale spending one (1) frivolous miracle to procure himself the golden pastry, in which case he’s screwed unless he gets some more information. And God would need to come down and personally offer him to Rise before he will ask the Angel about it. Half of the pleasure of comforting Aziraphale with sweets is surprising him. His delighted smile could light up London for weeks.

It’s about a year after the end of the world when Crowley finally finds out. Not much of a surprise there, Aziraphale’s levels of anxiety have dropped substantially since being freed of the Archangels high-expectations scrutiny. But the anniversary of the Not-Apocalypse is just around the corner, and Adam has contacted them to invite them over for what he called a “celebrate humanity party”. This might be making Aziraphale anxious for various reasons.

  1. Last time Aziraphale actually saw Madame Tracy, they’d just stopped sharing a body, and he never apologized properly.
  2. Kids.
  3. Aziraphale has never really been fond of hell hounds.



So, Crowley’s intending to take his angel out to get some sushi and comfort. He’s even stopped in Italy to pick up some golden dusted meringues from a little shop that’s been open for 2 centuries and a half, and he feels that he’s getting closer. The meringues' smell is very, very promising.

Crowley enters the bookshop, pastry box in hand, and turns the sign over to closed. He’s about to call out for Aziraphale when he catches sight of him, and realizes the angel hasn’t noticed him. He’s looking soft and warm, reading a book and nibbling absentmindedly on what looks like a very delicate and flaky ring. Golden dust is floating away from the angel’s face. And Crowley feels a bit disappointed in his excursion to Italy as he takes a closer look. His eyes fly open when he gets it.

“Aziraphale?” he croaks.

“Hm?” Aziraphale answers without looking up.

“Angel… is that… are you eating your halo?!”

At that Aziraphale stops and looks at Crowley like a deer in the headlights. He still has the border of the ring between his teeth. They look at each other for a moment that appears to stretch eternally, then pandemonium breaks out. Crowley jumps onto the settee Aziraphale is sitting on, and tries to take Aziraphale’s halo from his hands. Aziraphale is holding it as far out of reach as he possibly can and trying to push Crowley to the floor with his other hand. 

“No! Bad Angel!”

“Leave me alone Crowley!”

“You can’t just snack on your Grace!”

“What do you know, you silly serpent. The last time you snacked on something Arthur was king.”

“It’s not even edible!”

“It’s delicious and nutritious!”

The scuffle continues until Crowley manages to pull Aziraphale down onto the floor and pin him under his weight. With one hand he guards Aziraphale’s attempts at retrieving his halo, while he’s holding it away with his other hand. He snaps and a little bandage wraps itself around the nibbled down part of the ring. He holds Aziraphale’s hands until he calms himself.

“Angel I’m going to give you your halo back. No nibbling on it or I will take it to my flat and put it in my safe. Okay?”

Aziraphale crosses his arms and huffs, “Fine”.

Crowley pulls away, letting Aziraphale sit on the floor. Then he puts the bandaged halo on top of Aziraphale’s head. It shines brightly for a moment and then goes out of sight.

“Now. How about we go get some sushi, so you can relax.” He pulls himself to his feet and helps Aziraphale up. “Then we can go to my flat and watch a movie.”

The rest of the evening passes without incident. When they arrive at Crowley’s flat Aziraphale insists on watching “Life Is Beautiful”, because  _ come on, Crowley. How bad can this movie be? _ Crowley’s not going to be the one to tell him so he just lets Aziraphale snap his fingers and the movie starts. 10 minutes in, Crowley falls asleep.

He’s woken up sometime later by the sound of quiet sobs. Right, the movie must have reached  _ that _ part. He’s debating with himself if he should go back to sleep or wake up and comfort his angel when a familiar scent of vanilla reaches his nose. He opens one eye, and watches as fat tears fall from Aziraphale’s eyes, while he bites on his halo at an alarming rate. He’s snatched it away from Aziraphale’s hands before he’s even fully awake.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale groans.

“No Angel. We agreed on something. You can have your halo back once it has regrown. And stop that bloody movie!” Crowley walks into his office and proceeds to open his safe. He’s about to put the halo inside when something Aziraphale said comes to his mind. “ _ It’s delicious and nutritious! _ ” He stares at the halo in disbelief. It really can’t be that good, can it? Nothing more than Aziraphale’s oral fixation. 

Quickly he looks over his shoulder to make sure the angel didn’t follow him into his office. It sounds as if he has gone into the kitchen and is making himself a cuppa. Finally curiosity wins, and Crowley gives the halo a tiny lick. The most unexpectedly wonderful flavour explodes in his tongue. It tastes like delight, and like love, and like home. It tastes like something he’s afraid to admit, and hopes for irremediably. It tastes like something he’s forgotten for more than six thousand years. It tastes of warmth. Before he realizes what he’s doing he moans, like Aziraphale when he’s having the most scrumptious dessert.

A few seconds later he comes back to himself, and realizes he’s still munching on the halo.

Well, fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> A word of warning. Don’t watch that movie, I hate it with a seething passion. It took my insides and pummeled them into fine paste. But I thought it could work here.


End file.
